


Fire

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-01
Updated: 2007-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan helps Clark practice his heat vision in a slightly different way than in the episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Heat. Written for the lovely Sandy, because she has a major thing for Clark/Jon, and she deserves much porn.

"Lesson One: Practice AWAY from the barn."

The post of the scarecrow pierced the ground with a thump of compacted dirt and a dry rustle of hay. Usually overseeing a patch of ground near the house, the old piece of decoration looked oddly in place as smiling victim to Clark's practice. The faded clothing flapped in the dusty breeze. The coloring was so washed out and grimy, it blended in seamlessly with the dry, broken ground, as though it had always stood there.

The area behind the barn was absent of any debris or important farm equipment that could be harmed in the experiment. The only vulnerable things in the yard were the scarecrow and Jonathan Kent. Clark concentrated his gaze on the ground, the sky, the post, not trusting himself just yet to destroy one and keep the other safe.

Jonathan adjusted the scarecrow in the ground, turning its faded, smiling stitchwork face towards Clark. It was taller than the older Kent, and a completely vulnerable target for Clark.

"I thought this was about me learning how to make it stop."

"In order to find the off switch," Jonathan said distractedly, "first we have to find the on switch." The scarecrow in perfect alignment, Jonathan marched Clark fifteen paces away from it, turned, and aimed his son at the target. He moved behind Clark and watched the scarecrow intently. "I want you to remember exactly what you were thinking about the first time it happened." He patted Clark on the shoulder when he didn't immediately immolate the scarecrow. "C'mon," he encouraged.

Clark felt the twice-familiar uncomfortable tingle in the base of his spine, and tried hard to NOT think about what he was thinking the first time it had happened. Even though Jonathan stood behind him, his invulnerable son a shield, Clark didn't want to accidentally fry his father. The new power was hard to control and had already put too many people in danger; he wasn't sure he could aim with any accuracy even in these more controlled circumstances. Clark wasn't even sure how much area his fire-vision could cover, or how he would react when it finally came out. What if he panicked again? Anyone around him was a potential target, a victim waiting to burn.

Clark thought about dead puppies. He thought about his heat-vision frying dead puppies.

The heat inside quickly turned to ice.

Clark took a deep breath, readying to talk his way out of this practice session. "Dad, this might be easier--"

"I know," Jonathan interrupted, already thinking a step ahead. He patted Clark's shoulder again; this time his touch was softer and more comforting. "Close your eyes."

Clark obeyed, eagerly closing out the sight of the old scarecrow and cutting off the possibility of lasering someone. He felt his father move around behind him, warm air moving warm air against the back of his neck. Just on the edge of sensation was the solid form of Jonathan Kent close behind him.

"Relax," Jonathan whispered against his ear.

Clark let the sound shiver down his spine like a warm, soothing stroke of a hand. He willed himself to release a little of the tension he'd been holding in since he first felt the burn in his eyes.

"Now think about what you were thinking when the fire started," Jonathan spoke very soft against the back of his neck, the scruff of an unshaved lip rasping over his nerves.

Pheromones. Passion. Reproduction. Desire. Copulation. Yeah, that's what he had been thinking about--that big, strong, sexy word. A word that should be drawn out, pronounced slowly, punching in with every thrust of the syllables as it was breathed against bare, sweating skin.

Cop-u-la-tion.

"Yeah," Clark whispered on a long, smooth breath. This time when he felt the heat tingle in his spine, he let it come, encouraging it to grow and spread upwards in waves, feeding it with his thoughts.

The scrape of boots over hard soil. Solidness against his back. Just pressing, moving with breath and heartbeat and heated breeze. The sensation grew, not so much uncomfortable now, much more pleasurable.

Cop. U. La. Tion.

Rough hands traveled up the back of his arms, down the sides of his ribs, across his belly to meet in the middle. Strong fingers tugged at the beltline of his jeans, plucking at the button until it slid out of the worn button hole. A brief flash of hot, humid air over his navel as his shirt was pushed up, then hot-hot hands covered his stomach, sliding inside, covering other flesh, harder flesh.

Flesh and fire, flesh like flames over his skin, covering him completely, moving in waves. Sure touches, knowing so well how to move and give pleasure. Stroking, undulating, stoking the swell of heat in his body, calling it up with commanding gestures. The fire gathered inside Clark until he felt consumed; everything burning and hurting so well, so wonderfully.

Flesh. And Fire.

"Open your eyes." Words like flames flickered over his ear, down his throat, searing skin and breaking him open.

"Open. Your. Eyes."

Clark shuddered, full bodied, as he opened his eyes, fire and semen rushing out of him in a relieved burst. The scarecrow in front of him exploded, fully engulfed in seconds as the heat rushed out of him, undammed and grateful to be released. He could feel the power shimmer against the blush in his cheeks as it surged out, as if the sweltering summer needed any more energy to add to its fervor.

Sticky hands slid out of his jeans, swiping wetness over his belly and side, rubbing it into his skin before gently moving Clark's clothes back into place. "Now that we know how to turn it on, we just have to figure out how to turn it off." He could feel his father hard against him, holding him as Clark recovered from his dual exertions.

Clark leaned lightly against the solid presence at his back, smiling into the flames he had created. Idly he twitched his hips from side to side, enjoying the shimmer and flash of heated response he felt from Jonathan. "I think we're going to need another practice dummy."


End file.
